


What's Scarier Than Piecrust

by TheDuckofIndeed



Category: Pikmin (Video Game)
Genre: Humor, Olimar and Louie have a contest, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Set during Pikmin 2, spoopy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-12-07 01:41:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18228194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDuckofIndeed/pseuds/TheDuckofIndeed
Summary: It didn't take long for Olimar to learn that Louie's appetite was not something to scoff at. With his final precious can of pumpkin soup, his wife's special recipe, in danger of falling prey to his comrade's hunger, he decides a contest is in order. Not that Olimar should really have to win back his own property…. Set during the events of Pikmin 2.





	What's Scarier Than Piecrust

**Author's Note:**

> A silly story I wrote back in 2015. That is all.

Captain Olimar (for he _was_ the captain of this ship, even if this was not technically his ship, and no one but him seemed to think he deserved the title) drew in a silent breath. Today had already been enough of an ordeal, an appraisal which was hardly any different from all the other days spent on the planet they currently drifted high above, and as such, he certainly hadn’t expected another night spent back on the ship to present him with his greatest trial yet.

For as he peered across the small space, his heart had jumped when his…comrade, Louie, fixed his beady and ever hungry eyes on a particular can Olimar had been saving for the past 23 days. His wife, always the thoughtful sort, had cooked for him half a dozen cans of pumpkin soup, his favorite, as a reminder of home during his long excursions into the distant reaches of outer space.

It was a rare treat, one which he savored only sparingly, to prolong a taste of his dear wife’s cooking for as long as his willpower would allow. Nevertheless, he was already down to the final can. He had gone to great lengths to hide it, or really, to make it look as inconspicuous as possible, for hiding it in the truest sense of the word would arouse more suspicion than anything. He had actually scribbled over the label, despite the pang of regret he felt at marking out his own wife’s delicate handwriting, and pushed it to the back of their stores, but not _too_ far to the back, mind you. And you could tell the small Hocotatian that he was being ridiculous, _childish_ even, and perhaps, if he was being honest with himself, he was.

But, such accusations were only proof you had never seen Louie eat.

Olimar’s…ahem, partner, if the word didn’t entail actually helping or assisting him in any way, was not fat. In fact, he was rather scrawny. Maybe that explained his obsession with food. Maybe he just had a fast metabolism. Why, when Olimar was his age, he could eat anything he wanted, and…

Fast metabolism or no, Louie was a danger to anything edible, and Olimar’s last can of pumpkin soup was the most edible thing on this ship or the hostile planet below. He was just surprised Louie had never attempted to eat the Pikmin, though his story as to how he had lost a troop of twenty yellow Pikmin a mere two days ago was decidedly suspicious.

Olimar’s hands tightened their hold on the armrests of his captain’s chair when Louie picked up the can and inspected it closely with his eyes squinted as he attempted to read the crossed-out label. Olimar cleared his throat.

“Haven’t you eaten enough today?” he asked. Desperation made him blunt, he supposed, but if he didn’t act quickly, it could all be over.

The other Hocotatian blinked at him. “I haven’t eaten dinner yet.”

“You ate an entire wogpole not even an hour ago.”

“That was a late lunch.” When the captain hardly seemed convinced by this response, he added, “A very late lunch.” Turning away, Louie reached for the can opener, just as Olimar jumped to his feet.

“Would you mind eating something else?”

“Why?” Louie asked, and without waiting for an answer, placed the can opener on the lip of the can. Olimar winced as he began turning the crank as if his own flesh was in peril.

“Because my wife made that for me, and I _was_ saving it…” The captain’s eyes widened as Louie removed the lid to reveal the can’s precious contents. Without thinking about what he was doing, and uncaring if the word “childish” had perhaps been a fair assessment of him, after all, he lunged forward, only for Louie to pull the object of his desire away.

“I thought we were supposed to share. You said so yourself when I wanted the last can of squash casserole.”

“Exactly.” The captain reached for the can again, his efforts proving too slow when Louie danced with surprising nimbleness out of the way.

“And I split it with you.”

Olimar took a step in his direction, causing Louie to retreat the same distance. “ _Did_ you now?”

“Yes, well,” Louie glanced all about him, as if contemplating the possibility of escape from a small ship currently in orbit, though he didn’t dare allow his attention to leave the older Hocotatian for any longer than necessary, “I only ate the entire thing because your half was starting to grow cold.”

The captain waved his arms about, the only way to truly get his point across without the release of a few choice words that wanted very badly to break free. “Because I left to repair an emergency leak on the ship!”

“Yes, and that’s why I had to finish it!”

Louie’s mouth snapped shut at the captain’s poisonous glare, and they proceeded to stare at each other in a deadly silence. When no further argument could find the strength to leave Olimar’s tired mind, he rubbed his face with both hands. And his stomach grumbled.

The younger Hocotatian recoiled when he looked up again, his tensed stance easing when Olimar made no move to draw closer, but instead closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“You know what, Louie?”

Louie watched him closely, and only when Olimar failed to continue did he utter a drawn out, “What…?”

Louie retreated again when Olimar strode forward, and it was only when the captain sat in his seat that he went still again. Olimar gave the armrests a single pat. “Why don’t we have a contest? Whoever wins,” he jabbed a finger at the object clutched in Louie’s hands, “gets the entire can.”

“What…what kind of contest?”

Olimar crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat, studying the ceiling of the cockpit in thought. “How about a contest to see who can tell the best story?”

“Like…scary stories?”

“Sure, why not.” The captain met the other’s gaze. “So, what do you say?”

Louie looked between him and the open can and, with a shrug, headed for his own seat. “Sure, I guess it can’t hurt.”

“All right. And since I’m feeling gracious, you can go first.” Olimar patted the space between them on the control panel. “Set it here, please.”

With his eyes narrowed in suspicion, Louie did as he was asked, though he appeared to be in no rush to remove his hand from his potential prize with his competitor so close. Once he had managed to relinquish his grip upon it, he leaned back in his seat, and his hands dropped into his lap, where his fingers proceeded to fidget with one another.

“So…I go first, then?”

Olimar nodded.

Louie stared down at his hands as he took up kicking his feet in some absent need for movement. With a cough, he began, “Once…once upon a time, uh, I was…” He looked up. “Can I be in it?”

“It can be about anyone you like.”

Louie coughed again. “All right, so I was…taking a walk one day, well, it might’ve been day, but…there were clouds, so it was kind of dark, but not _really_ dark, and… Anyway, it started to rain, so I guess it was…probably pretty dark, with all the rainclouds and everything. So I ran into a cave to keep dry, only…it was a really deep cave.” He paused to take a deep breath, while Olimar moved his hands to indicate he continue.

“Yeah, so it was…a deep cave, and it began to rain so much that it began to flood, and the only way I could avoid the water was to run farther into the cave.”

Olimar held up a finger. “Let me stop you for just one second. How does running _deeper_ into the cave help you to escape the flood?”

Louie considered this for a moment, and after his eyes had made a full tour about the cockpit, on the hunt for the answer, he replied, “The cave went uphill.”

The captain lifted his head in what could have been a nod, if nods typically did not go down again. “Ah, I see. So, wasn’t the cave dark?”

His comrade blinked and grew stiffer in his seat. “Uh, dark…oh, right…yes, I mean…I-I brought a flashlight. I mistook it for an umbrella, see, so…I had my flashlight, and…I ran into the cave…with the floodwater at my heels. I managed to outrun it eventually, but by then, I was deep into the cave and couldn’t go back. With nothing else to do, I decided to spend the night there. It was night because…I was running a long time…. Anyway… So, that night, I started to hear noises from deep in the cave, moaning, like when I had that stomach ache the other day. You remember the one.”

“Yes.” Olimar crossed his arms. “That’s why I told you not to eat that goolix. But, go on.”

“Anyway, it sounded…like someone was injured, and, being the heroic sort that I am, I decided I would investigate. So I started walking farther into the cave. It was…going downhill this time, you see, and…well, I walked for a while. I guess…the sound travelled pretty far….”

“Yes, yes, and what happened when you found the source of the noise?” Olimar asked.

“Okay,” Louie continued, “so…the moaning grew louder and louder, and it echoed off the walls. It was loud enough that I couldn’t hear my own heartbeat. Not that I normally do, but it was beating pretty hard at that point, and what I saw was…” he raised his arms into the air to indicate the height of something whose identity he had yet to divulge, “a monster made of water, with no face. It had, uh, rolling pins on its arms and legs, which looked uncomfortable, so that might’ve been why it was making all those noises.”

“So, you encountered the waterwraith, then?”

“Yes, well…” Louie scratched the side of his face as his head bobbed in an uncertain nod he scarcely seemed to be aware of. “And that’s…pretty much it.”

The captain arched his eyebrows. “Well, what happened _next_?”

Louie blinked at him. “Next?”

“Yes, you _just_ reached the monster, so what _happened_? Did you fight it? Did you—”

Louie’s dark eyes sparked with something near to comprehension, but likely wasn’t, and he nodded. “Oh, yes, so…what happened is…I ran. And it came after me…on its rolling pins. But, it was so fast that…it caught up, and, well, you see, what happens is, when it catches people, it flattens them and…makes them into piecrusts. To bake pies in. Uh…” He threw his arms open wide in a half-hearted manner. “The end.”

Olimar stared in dumbfounded amazement, and his lips shook before he could muster the soundness of mind to form any real words. “P-piecrusts?”

Louie’s head dipped into a deep nod, his eyes closed in a manner that would have been sagely if it had been done by anyone else. A Pikmin, for example. “Piecrusts,” he repeated. “If there’s one thing that’s scary, it’s being baked into a pie. So, what did you think?”

The captain’s mind spun as he attempted to comprehend the tale just shared with him, so much so that it took him several moments to realize a question had even been directed his way. Once his thoughts had grasped the meaning of the other’s words, he began to nod, his hands rising with a mind of their own to clap with no real rhythm. “Yes, well, very nice, Louie. I certainly…didn’t expect you to die at the end of your own story.”

Louie nodded again, the original struggle of storytelling giving way to an uncertain grin. “I didn’t expect it, either. I just…sort of thought of it at the last second.”

“You could certainly tell…uh…”

“So, is it your turn, or do I already win?” the other Hocotatian asked.

The reminder of their agreement was enough to pull the captain from his stupor, and he straightened in his seat, as if such a position would help his words to flow more readily. “Yes, well, I do have a story of my own, but _mine_ is true, and it took place during the month I spent stranded on the very planet we orbit over now.”

“I don’t remember that,” Louie said.

“That might be because you weren’t there when it happened.”

His comrade nodded. “Oh, that makes sense. I’m listening.”

“As I was saying, I spent a month alone on that planet, learning to command the Pikmin so that they could help me gather the parts to my damaged ship.” He felt a twinge of nausea at the memory of the Dolphin’s fate. After all that work… He shook his head to rid himself of not only the image of his ship after its glorious recompletion, but of the trash heap they were sitting in now. “I saw…many strange things during my time there, and while I recorded my experiences and attempted to understand the hostile environment in which I had found myself in, there was one creature I was never able to fully comprehend.”

“One of the most dangerous locations where I was forced to continue my search was the Distant Spring. Not only was the waterlogged landscape a menace to my Pikmin, but the wildlife was of a far more ravenous variety than…” Olimar swallowed the words that were threatening to come forth, “more ravenous than…what I had encountered previously.”

“Several days into my discovery of the spring, I came upon a massive egg. It was frighteningly near to my ship, but I suppose I had overlooked it due to its location being in a direction I had never before travelled. Deciding to leave well enough alone, I continued my search elsewhere. Nevertheless, something about the egg unsettled me, and I spent the following night unable to sleep until I passed out from exhaustion.

“The next couple of days went by without incident, until I began to notice a foul smell I didn’t remember being there before. After a hard day’s work, I decided to retire my Pikmin to their Onions, as it was getting late and, thus, too risky to continue my work. I had not forgotten the egg, however. No, far from it, and, suspecting the worst, I began to follow the smell. If there was a new threat, I needed to know about it, rather than be caught unawares and unprepared at a later time.

“What I found chilled me, for once I followed the odor to its source, I discovered what remained of the egg. It had hatched, and something completely unknown had crawled forth. I felt this with every fiber of my being, that something was wrong, and I was in danger.

“When I turned to head back to my ship, however, I was unable to remember from which direction I had come, for the sun had set far quicker than I had expected and an unexplainable pallor had settled over the marsh. I didn’t recognize where I was. I looked in all directions for some sign of my ship, some small glimmer of a light that would lead me back, but nothing presented itself, and I dared not stray far from that spot, for fear of becoming even more lost than I already was.

“I’ll never forget what happened next. As I surveyed my surroundings, a pair of glowing white eyes, rimmed red, appeared in the growing darkness, seeming to hover twice my height off the ground. It was now that the stench from earlier had doubled in strength. It was the putrid smell of death, like eggs left out in the sun too long. I watched this creature, surely returned to the place of its birth, and I couldn’t say whether or not it meant me harm.

“It began to approach me, and I stepped back as a large, murky shape emerged from the mist. It came forward in slow, labored movements, but what horrified me most was the smoke emanating from its body, as if it was fading into some ghostly form. And the cold. I had never felt so cold before. This creature was not natural. At least, it was not normal.

“As it moved, the vegetation that peeked up from the shallow water appeared to wither in its wake. My heart was pounding. I was nearly frozen to the spot in fear. That is, until I spotted the beacon on my ship’s bowsprit to the creature’s left, and I began to run like I had never run before in my life. I didn’t look back to see if it followed, but I felt needle pricks on my back the whole way that spurred me onward. Without delay, I launched the Dolphin into orbit, and I remained awake the entire night, replaying its appearance in my head more times than I care to count.

“Perhaps it was a mutant that had hatched from its egg too early. Or maybe it was merely a hallucination brought about by a lack of sleep or a side effect of that horrific odor. Either way, all I know is that I never got over the apprehension I felt every visit that followed, even though I never saw, what I dubbed as, the smoky progg ever again.”

Olimar took a deep breath. He had never told that story to anyone. He had never gotten a chance, having been rushed back here on the Hocotate Freight President’s orders almost as soon as he had repaired the Dolphin and left the planet behind. The spring still made him uneasy. Perhaps his story ruined any chances of convincing Louie to go there without him.

Louie remained silent, and the captain could feel a growing certainty that he was the victor. The contest may have been his idea, but surely he had won back his own property fair and square. And yet, the other Hocotatian began to eye the can with a renewed avarice, and Olimar slammed his hand down upon it before Louie could make a move.

“I believe it’s clear who the winner is, so I’ll be taking this back.”

“What makes you think _you’ve_ won? The ghost was a nice touch,” Louie said, “but I _died_ in my story.”

“It wasn’t a _touch_. My story actually happened. And I shouldn’t have to—”

A static buzz interrupted their quarreling, and Olimar cringed at the newest voice to invade the ship’s cockpit.

“While my sensors are not capable of detecting the state of fear,” the ship began in its usual monotone, “what I believe to be even more shocking than both of your fabrications combined is the fact that, despite spending nearly a month on a hostile alien planet, Louie’s weight has actually increased by 11.13%. Now that bit of knowledge, on the other hand, should be alarming, as it makes him more desirable to predators, not to mention less deserving of the sustenance you are both competing over.”

“I can’t be gaining weight if I’m hungry,” Louie said as his eyes searched for the source of the voice. When inside the ship, it was never certain where they should actually direct their gaze. Though, it was typically preferable the ship didn’t speak to begin with.

“Furthermore, as expected, my sensors did not pick up any increase in heartbeat, brain function, or perspiration indicative of fear during Louie’s story, leading me to hypothesize that there is nothing frightening about piecrusts, even if being made into one would most certainly be fatal.”

Olimar cleared his throat, knowing full well he really shouldn’t make known the question on his mind, but was going to anyway. “What about _my_ story?”

“All I could detect during your story was an increase in salivation. It would appear the majority of Louie’s attention had been directed elsewhere.”

The captain’s disapproving frown at his comrade was only met with a shrug. “Well, who won?” Olimar asked.

“Considering that neither of your stories were frightening, that is impossible to say,” the ship replied, “but you might find it interesting that I took the liberty of performing a full scan of the canned pumpkin soup. My analysis indicates that the spouse you are so content to go on about, even when no one is actually listening, neglected to check the expiration date of the cream. In conclusion, that food is unfit to eat.”

Olimar sighed. He thought he had smelled something funny. He merely assumed it was one of the unfortunate side effects of Louie’s fondness for crawmads.

Louie fixed the can with a thoughtful gaze. “Just how expired _is_ it?”


End file.
